


Fallen

by ordinarylittleme



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: (I warned you), (this is so short), Cliff-diving, Drabble, Gen, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 14:52:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10596288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ordinarylittleme/pseuds/ordinarylittleme
Summary: Leah Clearwater is falling through the frigid air.





	

Leah Clearwater is falling through the frigid air(almost as frigid as her, Emily once sneered), slicing it with her refusal to scream. The water is getting closer and closer and the edge of the cliff is farther and farther away. Unlike Bella Swan, nobody will be at the bottom waiting to save her. She's not the princess, after all.  
She'd almost be sorry, if it wasn't for the fact that nobody would miss her. Who _would_ miss her...Jacob?  
She lets out a harsh laugh at that. Jacob never gave a shit about her, only about the brunette leech-lover. The _married_ brunette leech-lover who he's fucking on the down-low. Leah isn't stupid, she sees things like this. She wonders how the supposed mind-reader hasn't. Maybe he has, and he's trying to keep the peace. Maybe he's fucking Jacob himself, who knows?  
Her father will be there, Leah knows. He'll stand there and wait for her, waving the moment she appears. She likes that idea-reuniting with the only man who never stopped loving her, even to the end. She wonders what death is like. The water's so close and she'll know for herself soon, but still she wonders. The rest of the pack should start celebrating, before she decides she won't die after all and come back to return the mood. She's a special kind of bitch like that, always there to piss people off when they least need her to. ( _Well, not anymore_ , Leah thinks, and laughs bitterly.) _Thump_. She's fallen. The water chokes her and she lets it, relishing in the pain. It'll be short-lived, anyway. The next morning, all that is left of her is a corpse, blue with cold and a little smile on her chapped lips.


End file.
